


before i fall ill

by deathhaul



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drugging, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food Poisoning, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Sick Fic, Will Graham Knows, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathhaul/pseuds/deathhaul
Summary: After Hannibal takes care of a sick Will, Will wants to return the favor. But Hannibal Lecter does not get sick, which causes Will to come up with a creative solution.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 139





	before i fall ill

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place within season two; after Will is out of prison. Also Beverly Katz is alive and Will is no longer accusing Hannibal for putting him in jail/being the Ripper, because I said so.

“You don’t look so good,” the voice belongs to Beverly. Will focuses away from the corpse on the table to look at her, adjusting his glasses. “And not in the normal way you don’t look good.” 

“I’m fine.” Will tries to assure her. Beverly, of course, can see through it. He wipes his forehead on his sleeve, trying to ignore how uncomfortably hot he is under his sweater and flannel. He walks near the body and tries to focus on the details of the kill, the only thing he is able to tell is that it isn’t Hannibal. If he was too sick to not even see that he would have willingly went home.

“Just don’t throw up on the corpse, that will really make this difficult." Beverly says. "Although, I do need a challenge.” She moves closer to the body to examine the knife wounds. “The Ripper has been silent.” Beverly’s eyes flick up to Will. 

“Are you accusing me of something?” She laughs and picks up a pair of tweezers. Will does agree with her, ever since he was let out of prison the Ripper has been silent. He has what he wants now, and when he wants dinner he chooses a different design. _Shit_ , Will thinks. _Dinner. Hannibal._ There is no way he can show up to a doctor's house, much less a doctor as invested in him as Hannibal is, this sick. He hopes the third dosage of pills he swallowed helps, the only dosage he managed to keep down.

“Of course not, I know better than anyone else you didn’t kill all those people. And you’re way too sick to kill anyone in your current state.” Will rolls his eyes, trying to focus on her with his blurry vision. He can hear the door to the lab opening but keeps his focus on Beverly, the fluorescent lights stab at his brain and increase his headache. 

“Are you able to finish this yourself?” The voice belongs to Jack, Price and Zeller had been called away into the field earlier. Will watches the disjointed blur that is Beverly nod. 

“I can probably finish sooner without them, if Will would stop sweating on the body.” 

“Sorry.” Will mumbles, backing up a little to lean against the counter. The metal is cool on his palms and he sighs, indulging in it. When he raises his eyes he is met with Jack inspecting his face, slight worry in his eyes. “My sickness is not back.”

“Some sickness is, you look awful.” Will tries to form a smile but he stops, realizing how it must make him look. Jack takes a step towards him and presses the back of his hand to Will’s forehead. “You’re burning up, bad. Go home, Will.”

Will shakes his head. “I’m fine, Jack.”

“Really?” Jack gives him a quick once over. “You can stay and work on the case?” Will nods. “Then tell me the killer's design, Will. Tell me his design and then you can stay.” Will fumbles to remove his glasses, tucking them inside his collar. He focuses on the corpse on the table, with it's multiple stab wounds and bent and broken ribs, and then closes his eyes. No matter how hard Will forces himself to step into the killers shoes, he cannot picture the design. 

He rubs his face and makes eye contact back with Jack when he opens his eyes, Jack knew Will wouldn’t be able to. “Go home, Will.” Will nods slowly. “I am going to walk him to his car.” Jack says to Beverly, he picks up Will’s jacket from a nearby chair and leads him out the door. “You get to bed and stay there. Do not come back to work until you feel better, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Jack. My dogs will love the constant company.” Jack has significantly slowed his pace to walk beside Will, as they both walk to Will’s parked car. 

“I mean it. If you come into work tomorrow and look this bad-”

“I know, Jack.” Will fumbles for his keys inside his pocket and unlocks his car, taking his jacket from Jack and tossing it into his backseat. 

“I know you want to be useful, Will. But you can’t help like this.” Jack scans his face again. “Are you sure your sickness has not returned?”

Will nods. “I know what that felt like, I know what this is. This isn’t that, honest.”

“Should I call Dr. Lecter?” Will shakes his head as he gets in his car. 

“No, it’s not that serious.” He starts the car and looks at Jack through the lowered window. “It’s not fair to leave Bev with all that work.” Jack smiles softly. 

“She will be fine, we were fine without you before, we can be fine without you for however long it takes you to recover. She was the one that wanted me to come down, she asked me to send you home.” Will chuckles softly, shaking his head with a smile.“If it gets worse, contact Dr. Lecter.” Will nods and then pulls out of the parking lot. 

He will either have to cancel his dinner with Hannibal or show up to his house this sickly. Will is unsure which is ruder. 

After hours spent on his cold bathroom floor, with various dogs trotting in to check on him, Will feels slightly better. He takes a cold shower, dresses in a button down and black slacks, and applies too much aftershave in an attempt to cover the smell of his sickness. 

When he gets to Hannibal’s house he hovers outside a little before knocking, running a hand softly through his hair. 

“Hello, Will.” Hannibal beams as he opens the door, Will walks inside and hangs his coat by the door. “You are slightly early, dinner is not finished yet.” When Will fully eyes Hannibal he can see the apron tied over his expensive outfit, his suit vest and jacket discarded.

“Short work day, I would never deny myself the opportunity of watching you cook.” A genuine smile flashes across Hannibal’s face as Will follows him into his kitchen. The more their relationship grew and evolved the easier it got for Will to detect Hannibal’s un-genuine smiles, the ones for performance. Now he normally only sees them when others are around, never when it is only the two of them.

“Has it begun to grow boring without my work?” Hannibal asks once they are in his kitchen, Will leans against the kitchen island, trying to keep his distance. Will hopes that the smells of dinner will overpower his sickness. 

“In a way. But even with your work most of the original entertainment has been lost.” Hannibal looks up from his cooking at Will, interested. “The entertainment is wondering your design, who you are, your motive, stepping into your shoes and killing with your hands. The chase and the hunt. The hunt is over, at least for me.”

“You want me to maintain a low profile, and then you taunt me? You are an interesting thing, Will.” Hannibal says lovingly as he returns to cooking. The warmth of Hannibal’s kitchen is starting to heighten his sickness, rendering all of the progress he made on his bathroom floor useless. He blinks behind his glasses to focus on Hannibal’s blurry movements. 

“Do you wear that aftershave simply to antagonize me?” Coming from anyone else the question would be mean, it isn’t coming from Hannibal. “You are wearing more than you usually do. Have I done something worthy of punishment, Will? Or are you trying to hide something?” Hannibal’s eyes flick up to meet Will’s. Will’s face, unable to recover fast enough due to the heat, betrays him. 

Hannibal’s face perks with interest. He is hoping Will is covering up the scent of blood, how disappointed he will be. Hannibal lowers the heat on his burner and circles the island to walk towards Will, scanning him up and down. Hannibal leans close to him, pressing his face closer towards Will’s neck. He inhales deeply. 

Will knows he has lost. 

Hannibal pulls away and meets his eye contact, his eyes shift into intense focus. He presses the back of his hand to Will’s forehead. Will doesn’t remember much from his seizure in Hannibal’s dining room, what he does remember is gentle hands on his face. 

“You’re warm, extremely.” 

“The kitchen is warm.” Hannibal tilts his head slightly, not amused. 

“Will, do not lie to me.”

“Says you.” Will mumbles as Hannibal's talented fingers find their way to his neck, taking his pulse. 

“Will.” His tone is more forceful and possibly, even worrisome. “Are you ill?” Both Hannibal’s hands cup his face, Will meets his gaze and nods slowly in his hands. “Oh, Will.” His voice is soft and a faint smile hangs on his lips. Hannibal pulls away from him for a second, Will only registers the motions Hannibal is making as untying his apron when he sees him set it on the counter. 

“I’m sorry.” Will says, in spite of himself. When Hannibal meets his gaze he elaborates. “For ruining dinner.” He watches Hannibal nonetheless take the pan off the heat and smile lovingly at him. Hannibal walks over to him, placing a hand on his back and leading Will from his kitchen. 

“You do not have to apologize for sickness, Will. Although, I am curious why you arrived anyway.”

“Canceling is rude.” Will mumbles as Hannibal leads him up the stairs. “Where are we going?”

“My bedroom.” Hannibal replies simply, which causes Will to blink from shock.

“Is that why you let my sickness go untreated? Do I arouse you in this state?” Hannibal laughs as he leads Will into the hallway, arm around him tightly. 

“You, my boy, are delirious.” Will blinks again and then they are in his bedroom. Will has been in his bedroom before, multiple times, but never like this. Even drunk he wasn’t this disoriented. Hannibal leads him to sit on the bench at the foot of his bed, and begins to unbutton his shirt. 

“I think I’m correct.” Will says, looking at Hannibal. Both men know Will is joking, even this disoriented Will can tell that isn’t the truth. He knows how Hannibal unbuttons his shirt when they are going to have sex, his talented and quick fingers reduced to desperate fumbling. The way Hannibal is buttoning his shirt now does not reflect that desperateness. Will can’t help a smile, thinking of the memory; he loves being able to make Hannibal that weak.

“You will soon sweat through your clothes, less layers will help you feel cooler.” Will rests his forehead against Hannibal’s shoulder, letting the man undress him. He doesn’t bother to make another comment when Hannibal’s fingers work his belt off or when his shoes and pants soon follow. 

Hannibal leads him to his feet and lays him in his bed, on the side that Will knows is Hannibal’s. Hannibal removes Will's glasses and sets them gingerly on the bedside table.

“Are you sure you want me sweating in your bed, on your expensive sheets?”

“This will not be the first time.” Even through hot warm his face is Will can faintly feel his cheeks heat up. “I will be back.” Will nods as he lays his head on Hannibal’s pillow and his eyes slip close. 

The feeling of a cold, damp rag on his face shakes him awake. Will sighs, looking out of the corner of his eye to see Hannibal with his sleeves rolled up, sitting in a chair beside the bed. 

“You seem to be suffering from the flu, nothing severe. But you need more care than I am sure you have been giving yourself.” Hannibal dips the rag into a bowl on his nightstand, wringing it out before dabbing it back onto Will’s face. “You mentioned a short work day, Jack sent you home, didn’t he?”

Will nods, weakly.

“He’s a good man, I wouldn’t expect less. How many times did you vomit today?”

“Three… I think. I was only able to keep down my morning coffee and then one dose of meds while at work.”

“And yet you still came here, to eat.” Hannibal runs the cloth down Will’s neck, dabbing gently at his skin. 

“I didn’t want to cancel on you, I wanted to see you.” Hannibal just smiles as he removes the cloth, draping it over the edge of the bowl. 

“I’ll need you to sit.” Will sits up and leans against the headboard, with Hannibal’s help. “Good. What medication have you been taking?” Hannibal pulls a dark leather bag, which Will assumes is full of medicine, in his lap. 

“Aspirin.” Will mutters and Hannibal meets his eye contact, a combination of emotions swim in them. Will is too dizzy to try to decipher which is which. 

“You’ve been taking no flu medication?” Will nods. “Will, while I may not be practicing anymore, I still have a great supply of medicine. Why didn’t you contact me? We could have stopped this before it fully bloomed.”

“I knew you have day therapy appointments, and I didn’t want to burden you.” Will sighs. “And I’m doing an excellent job at that.” Will says next, sarcastically. Hannibal’s eyebrows pinch together and he looks at Will, genuinely surprised. 

“You believe you are burdening me?” Will shrugs. “Will, my darling.” Hannibal takes Wills head softly in his hands, moving him to make eye contact. “You could not possibly burden me, you are the last person in this world that could burden me.”

Will, for a second, can see past everything he knows Hannibal is and everything he has done, and only sees a man who loves him. Tears fill his eyes and he is too tired to care, they roll down his cheeks and Hannibal wipes them away slowly. 

“I need you to believe that, Will. If I were sick, I would choose you to take care of me.”

Will scoffs. “You’re a doctor and besides, you don’t get sick.”

“If.” Hannibal says, with a smile. “Now, since you have been taking no flu medication I will not risk giving you pills.” Hannibal pulls a small vial and needle from his bag, stabbing it through the lid and filling it with the liquid. 

Will watches him clean off a small section of his arm and then slide the needle into his arm. “Making up for letting me stay sick for so long?” Coming from anyone else the question would be mean, it isn’t coming from Will.

“In a way.” Hannibal leans forward to press a kiss to Will’s forehead and helps him lay back down. “That should help.” He flicks his eyes to his watch. “In a couple hours, if you can keep down water, I’ll make you something to eat. I am sure you are famished. But I’ll let you rest, call for me if you need anything.” Hannibal’s fingers play loosely with Will’s hair, pulling it away from his face. 

“Thank you, really. To think I spent five hours on my bathroom floor.” Will chuckles softly before settling into Hannibal’s bed, his smile growing when he sees the shocked look upon Hannibal’s face. 

“You must take better care of yourself.” Hannibal lovingly scolds him as he walks to the door. 

“I think you are actually deterring me from doing so.” Before his heavy eyelids slip close and sleep overtakes him he can see Hannibal smile. 

When Will wakes there is light streaming in through the window in Hannibal’s bedroom. Will blinks to adjust to the light, as he does so he realizes that this is the first morning he has awoken in Hannibal’s bed without Hannibal's arms around him.

When he sits up he sees a glass of water on the bedside table, sitting next to it is a note. Will picks up and puts on his glasses to read it, written in Hannibal’s signature cursive is ‘Will, drink all of this, please’. Will shakes his head but picks up the glass and downs it anyways. Will looks over to where Hannibal should be- laying in bed next to him.

The bed is empty beside him, showing no evidence of ever being slept in. Will furrows his brows as he gets out of bed slowly, looking for his clothes. He doesn’t find the clothes he arrived in, only folded red silk pajamas sitting on the bench. Will forgoes the top and when he has the pants on he can’t help but laugh due to how well they fit, clearly not Hannibal’s. Meaning Hannibal had bought them _for_ him, of course he did.

Will stumbles down the stairs to the kitchen, following the smell of food. Will hovers in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Hannibal chop vegetables and toss them into a pot on the burner. Will studies Hannibal; his somewhat unkempt hair, the same shirt he wore last night now wrinkled and the darkness under his eyes. 

“You didn’t sleep at all, did you?” Hannibal looks up from his cooking and smiles over at Will. 

“And if I did?” Hannibal closely watches Will as he walks towards the kitchen island. 

“That’s unhealthy, Doctor. You should know that.” 

“You slept longer than I expected.” Hannibal rounds the island and presses the back of his hand to Will’s forehead. “But you do look much better.” 

“I feel better.” Hannibal smiles proudly.

“I’m glad.” Hannibal returns back to his pot on the stove, it becoming clear to Will he is making soup. “And it seems like the pajamas fit you, at least the bottoms anyway. I would suggest after you eat, given you can keep it down, you should take a shower.” Hannibal abandons the pot to pour Will a glass of ice water, handing it to him. “I’m sure you are dehydrated as well.”

“I drink coffee.” Hannibal looks at him and fondly smiles in his ‘what am I going to do with you?’ way. Will sips the water and watches Hannibal cook, finding it hypnotic. “Were you able to salvage last night's dinner?” Hannibal studies his face when he meets their eye contact.

“You feel guilty.”

“Food is important to you, especially your favorite protein.” Hannibal watches Will while he stirs the soup. “So yes, I feel guilty.” 

“Food is important to me, it is. But so are you, Will. I can remake dinners, get more protein. I cannot remake things between us. But yes, I was able to salvage the meat. Food should be ready, sit please.” Hannibal motions to a small table in his kitchen that Will hasn't seen before, he walks over and sits.

“Thank you.” He says when a bowl of soup is set in front of him. “You made me chicken soup.” Will playfully says as Hannibal sits across from him with his own bowl. 

“This time, yes. It is best to stay away from rich food when recovering from the flu.” Will smiles and blows softly on a spoonful before putting in his mouth, he clenches a piece of meat between his teeth to separate it from everything else. Over time Will has gotten quite good at deciphering what is human flesh and what is truly the animal Hannibal is calling it. And this isn’t human meat. 

Will swallows the rest of the spoonful and looks at Hannibal, a little surprised. 

“As I said, rich food is not preferred when recovering from the flu.” Hannibal places his hand over Will’s as they continue to eat. 

* * *

“Burning the midnight oil?” Will looks up to see Beverly walking into the classroom he is currently occupied in. 

“Lesson planning.” He replies, motioning to the various books and papers spread across the desk. 

“Maybe I can help.” She walks over, two coffee cups in hand. Beverly hands one to Will as she pulls a chair over to the desk. 

“You just want to get away from Price and Zeller, don’t you?”

“Possibly.” She sips her coffee and Will shakes his head with a smile. “What are you working on exactly?”

“Poisons, not sure where to narrow it down.” Beverly sips her coffee again and pulls some papers across the desk towards her. 

“‘Specific designs with poisons’?” She reads, glancing at Will curiously. “You know you can just say motive, right?” 

Will rolls his eyes at her and downs about half of the coffee. 

“What have you got so far?”

“The demographic of who uses poisons; that women are far likelier to kill with poison over men. Some crime scene examples,” Will slides her some pictures. “And the motives normally include- money, jealousy, removing an obstacle, sadism, boredom, and often ego.”

“Seems good so far. You did forget some motives.” Will takes his glasses off and sets them on the table, looking at her curiously. “Some poisonings are from the motive of nurture, most often a mother wants to poison their children or sometimes a spouse wants to poison their partner. Most do not end in death but it’s something I would include.”

“Munchausen by proxy,” Will says, mostly to himself. He picks up a pen and adds it to his lesson plans. 

“And some poisonings, more-so the ones that aren't fatal, can be seen as an act of love.”

Will looks at her and searches her eyes, _sounds like something Hannibal would say._

“You poison someone you love so you can keep them close. Make them sick so you can take care of them, make them need you; in a way that’s love.” Beverly adds as she rises from the chair. 

_“If I were sick, I would choose you to take care of me.”_

_“You don’t get sick.”_

“Thanks for the help Bev, and the coffee.” Will picks up his coffee and goes to take a sip, pausing as he looks at it. “What poisons do we have access to through the lab?”

* * *

Will is currently standing in Hannibal’s kitchen, his elbows on the kitchen island as he watches Hannibal cook.

“You look much better.” Hannibal smiles at Will, yesterday Will left Hannibal’s house recovered enough to sleep in his own bed. Or, on a more truthful level, recovered enough for Hannibal to let him leave. 

“Now that is an unpopular opinion.” Hannibal raises an eyebrow, as he sets two plates on the island. “Bev said I now look just as bad as I normally do.” Hannibal shakes his head with a chuckle. “If you bring the plates to the table, I can pour us wine and bring those out.”

Will would never be able to get Hannibal away from the food long enough to poison it, and that would likely involve poisoning his own as well. And Hannibal would immediately know something was off if Will was not eating his food. 

“Of course, I am sure by now you know which wine.”

“Is this a test, Hannibal?” Will grins slightly as he looks at him. 

“Is anything ever not a test?” Hannibal asks as he picks the plates up and walks into the dining room. Will holds a soft smile on his face as he walks into the pantry to grab the bottle of wine, it almost scares him that he knows exactly what wine to grab, more than it scares him to know what Hannibal is. He uncorks the wine and pours his glass, keeping an eye on the doorway. Will fills half of Hannibal’s glass before pulling a small vial from his pocket, pouring the liquid inside and then adds more wine. 

He picks up both glasses and holds them to his face, inhaling the scent of one then the other To Will they smell the same, he hopes they will to Hannibal too. 

Will heads into the dining room and sets Hannibal’s glass in front of him before taking his own seat at the table. Hannibal picks up his wine and swirls it in his glass before inhaling the scent. 

“Did I pass your test?” Will asks as he picks up his fork.

“It seems that you have.” Hannibal smiles at him before he takes a slow sip. Will cuts off a small piece of meat and bites it off his fork, watching Hannibal’s face closely. Hannibal sets his wine glass back down and picks up his fork, keeping a smile towards Will. 

The pair talk about their day as they eat dinner; Hannibal discusses some new patients and Will has to force himself not to make a ‘doctor-patient confidentiality’ comment, and Will tells him about the newly blooming serial killer Hannibal should keep an eye on. 

“Need help with the dishes?” Will asks as their plates are clear and wine glasses are empty. Hannibal shakes his head as he stands to collect the plates. 

“You have already done enough.” Will watches Hannibal carry the dishes to the kitchen, drumming his fingers on his knee wondering how long it will take for the poison to take effect. Hannibal walks back into the room, over to Will’s chair. He cups his face with both hands and stares lovingly down at him. 

“I do admire your courage,” Will’s eyebrows knit together with confusion at Hannibal’s words. “You were able to trick my sense of smell, and I commend you for that.” Will’s blood runs cold under Hannibal’s warm hands. “But my taste, you should know, cannot be so easily fooled.” Will swallows the saliva that has grown in his mouth, staring up at Hannibal.

“You drank all of it.” Will whispers. 

“Of course I did. While, I did hope this would have gone more intimately.” Will’s face scrunches more with confusion. “Have you grown bored of me?”

“No, if anything the opposite.” Hannibal tilts his head, curiously. “Do you think you’re dying?”

“We are all dying. Although, mine may be much quicker than I assumed.” Will shakes his head in Hannibal’s hands, which causes the curiosity in his eyes to grow more. “If I am not dying, then what is about to happen, Will?” 

“I just wanted to take care of you.” Will whispers, softness washes over Hannibal’s face and he stares down at him full of pride and love. “I’ve never been taken care of like that before, and I am certain no one has taken care of you like that.” Hannibal’s thumbs rub softly over his skin. “And you said it yourself; you don’t get sick.”

“So you made me sick. I don’t have much time left, do I?”

“I assume so.”

“My cunning boy,” Hannibal muses down at Will. “Kiss me before I fall ill.” Will, guided by Hannibal’s hands, rises to his feet and kisses Hannibal softly.

* * *

The poison didn't take long to kick in.

Soon after their discussion Will caught Hannibal loosening his tie while washing the dishes, growing paler with each dish.

"Hannibal," Will walks over and takes a plate from him, setting it down. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

"Will, the dishes need-"

"I can do them." Will looks at Hannibal's apprehensive facial expression. "And I'll be careful." He adds. Hannibal, probably assuming it isn't worth the argument, grabs the nearby towel to dry hands. Will watches him closely; the sweat starting to gather on his forehead, his face pale but cheeks flushed with heat, how _off_ he looks. Will is there to catch him when his legs give out, wrapping an arm around his waist to lean the other man against himself.

"Come on." Will says sweetly, but it isn't a suggestion this time.

"I am fine, Will. I can walk on my own." Hannibal protests as Will guides him out of the kitchen, Will audibly scoffs. 

"I will carry you if I have to, which will be fun for neither of us. So, stop protesting." Hannibal mumbles something in a language Will has only heard him speak a few times, he assumes Lithuanian. "Too proper of a man to curse in english?" Will teases him as they get to the second floor. 

"You are getting too much enjoyment from this." Will leads him into his bedroom and, just like Hannibal did with him, guides him to sit on the bench at the foot of his bed. 

"You stuck a tube down my throat, while I was unconscious." Will says as he loosens Hannibal's tie the rest of the way. "I'm sure you enjoyed that, let me enjoy this."

"Are you planning to stick a tube down my throat, Will? To even us out?" Will can't help but grin. Hannibal disoriented by the fresh sickness isn't as calculating as Will is used to him being. He definitely will enjoy this. 

"You know what the only thing I plan to stick down your throat is, you definitely should by now." Hannibal blinks in shock and looks at Will, a flushed color overtaking his face. "You practically served me that on a plate, Doctor. Couldn't resist." Will's grin remains as he removes Hannibal's tie and smooths it out before laying it on the table across from the bench. Hannibal mumbles something else in Lithuanian while Will starts to unbutton his shirt. 

"You calculated this," Hannibal starts. "You poisoned me on a Friday night, knowing I don't have weekend appointments."

"As I said," Will has his shirt fully unbuttoned by now. "Canceling is rude, and I assumed rescheduling clients is a pain." Will pulls the shirt from his arms and drapes it over the back of a nearby chair, smoothing out the wrinkles the best he can. When he looks back over Hannibal is bent down, untying his shoes. He pulls them off and sets them on the floor by the bench, his socks on top of them. Will can't help but shake his head with a smile, even sick he is still methodical.

"When was the last time you were sick, like this?" Will asks as he walks over and then pulls Hannibal by his hips to stand. The other man stumbles a little before giving in and resting his forehead on Will's shoulder. Hannibal hums softly, thinking, as Will undoes his belt. 

"Probably in my youth, as a boy." Will nods, listening as he pulls the belt off fully. "When I was sick as a boy there was a nurse to take care of me. Always nice, but never someone I loved. My sister fell ill more often than I did, and I'd take care of her then."

Will pauses, he doesn't know much about Hannibal's past, Will is sure Hannibal kept it purposefully blurry. But what Will knows the least about was his sister. He knows something horrible happened, something that haunted Hannibal, but not what; Will doesn't even know her name. Hannibal, almost as shocked with himself as Will is, tenses against him. 

"Now, don't be alarmed, your pants are coming off next." Will sidesteps that entire conversation. If Hannibal remembers it when his sickness has passed, Will may bring it up. But not now, not when his mind is hot and fuzzy; it isn't right. Will can hear the sigh of relief that Hannibal exhales, his hot breath hitting Will's skin. Will undoes his pants and gently shoves them down, guiding Hannibal to step out of them. With a hand at the base of his back he leads Hannibal to his bed, helping him lay.

"Thank you, Will." Hannibal says as Will pulls a thin sheet over him. Will knows he isn't just thanking him for his kindness, and he nods. Will presses the back of his hand to Hannibal's forehead. 

"You're burning up," It suddenly hits Will how human Hannibal looks; his hair messy with strands sticking to his face, the flush the sickness is giving him and exhaustion overtaking his eyelids making them heavy. "I'll be back, call if you need me, okay?" Hannibal nods and Will leans down to press a kiss to Hannibal's forehead, not caring about the sweat coating his skin.

Will pulls away and descends the stairs into the kitchen, he finds a decent sized bowl and begins filling it water and ice cubes. Will smiles at how domestic all this feels, how _normal._ If someone were to peak at their life from the outside they would see a man taking care of the man he loves, as simple as that. And on some level that is all they are; just two people deeply in love with each other. 

Will grabs a dishrag and tosses it on his shoulder before carrying the bowl back upstairs. He walks back into Hannibal's bedroom and sets everything on the bedside table, like Hannibal did with him. Will's blood runs cold when he looks back to the bed and finds it empty.

"Hannibal?" Will scans the bedroom, knowing he wouldn't be able to get far. His attention is caught by the sound of a creaking door, he watches Hannibal emerge from the master bathroom looking even paler than before. He wipes his mouth with back of his palm as Will walks to him.

"When I have my strength back you are going to regret making me vomit up my dinner." He glares slightly as Will rests a hand on his waist and helps him back to bed. 

"I told you to call for me." Will says as he guides him into bed, pulling a chair beside the bed like Hannibal had done with him.

"Do you truthfully believe I would allow you to see me in that state?" Will only chuckles as he dips the rag in the cold water, wiping some of the sweat from his forehead. "I have an image to uphold." Will raises an eyebrow, as if to say 'seriously?'. "And I will uphold it as much as I can." Will just smiles and listens to Hannibal's deep exhales of content as he pats the cold rag across his face. 

"In a little bit I'll make you something to eat." Hannibal starts to nod and then he freezes, looking at Will in slight horror. "I promise not to burn the place down."

"Do not even joke about that." Will dips the cloth back into the bowl, wrings it out and drags it softly down Hannibal's neck. 

"I promise you I can manage your kitchen. The food won't be up to your standards, I can promise you that as well."

"You'll be the first to ever cook me a meal in my own kitchen." Hannibal says between heavy exhales. Will simply watches Hannibal, stunned at how he can still look this attractive while even succumbed to an illness. Will wrings the cloth out one last time and dabs it back across his forehead before draping it over the side of the bowl. 

"I should let you rest." Will pulls the sheet to his waist and turns off the bedside lamp, rising from the chair. Hannibal lightly grabs onto his wrist and pulls him towards the bed.

"Even though I am the one ill, and you are the one taking care of me, you are still a guest in my home. I will not have you sleep anywhere else but here, and you will sleep."

"Maybe I should have given you a higher dosage." Will mumbles, mostly to himself. "You didn't sleep with me."

"You had a contagious sickness, we both know I do not. And, I would sleep sounder with you beside me." Will smiles, while shaking his head. He walks to the door only to close it and walks back over to the bed, shedding some of his clothes. Will knows Hannibal is saying anything to get what he wants, but he also knows the last words hold a ring of truth to them. He leaves his clothes on the bench for later and after dimming the rest of the lights he slides into bed.

"I think this is the only time we have both been in this bed without it being after sex." Hannibal hums softly along with his words, adjusting so he can look at Will.

"Are you advocating for something?" Hannibal asks and Will laughs.

"No, of course not. Just an observation." Will looks at his face in the dim light, observing Hannibal's obvious attempts to stay awake and focused. "You should get some rest, whenever you wake up wake me as well, I'll start on some food then." Will leans over turns off the bedside lamp, filling the room with darkness. 

Will is stirred awake after what he assumes is an hour of sleep, he turns to look at the sleeping man facing him. Hannibal had pulled his covers off while sleeping, Will assumes from a hot flash, and is now shivering next to him in bed. Will grabs the covers and pulls them back over Hannibal, as he lays back down he can see Hannibal shove the covers off himself. Will sits up again and repeats the motion, only for Hannibal to repeat his.

"Hannibal," Will whispers as he covers him up for the third time. "You're shaking, you're freezing." Hannibal mumbles something Will can't understand, most likely in Lithuanian again. Hannibal pushes the covers off himself once again, hand brushing against Will's forearm while doing so. That's when Hannibal grips onto WIll's arm and pulls him towards him, moving himself to lay beside Will with his head resting on Will's bare chest.

His shivering stops. Even with surprised eyes Will smiles, Hannibal seems to relax against him and slips fully asleep. Will wraps an arm around Hannibal's waist and holds him close. All the other times they slept together it was normally Hannibal who held Will and always tightly, almost to say 'I will not lose you again'. Hannibal's hands are ice cold against Will's skin while his body radiates heat, Will plays gently with his hair while he falls asleep. 

It is Will who wakes first that morning, giving him a pleasure he never had gotten before- the ability to watch Hannibal wake. It doesn't take long for him to wake as well, and to look up at Will with a sleep ridden confused expression. 

"You were cold, and didn't want the covers." Will explains, Hannibal nods and rests his head back on Will's chest with a lingering smile.

"You smell nice," He mutters. "You didn't use the dreadful aftershave." 

Will chuckles. "Figured it would be a little much, to both poison you and wear an aftershave you clearly despise. A little overkill." Neither men make an effort to pull themselves apart from the other; their legs entangled, Will's arm still around Hannibal, and Hannibal's head resting on Will's chest while he lightly traces over Will's muscle definition with his fingertips. 

"Strange," Hannibal starts. "I almost miss it." Will smiles, wondering if he should start periodically wearing it, just so Hannibal can bicker with him about it. 

"You look better, I should start on some food." Will tries to sit up and can't, he looks down at Hannibal. "I will have to get up to go make food." Hannibal simply adjusts his head on Will's chest and stays holding him down. "Fine." Will grumbles as he lays back down fully. They stay like this for a bit, until Will's phone goes off, which Hannibal does let him get up for. 

Will grabs his pants and fumbles over the pockets until he pulls out his phone, seeing that Jack is calling him. With a simple glance of the time Will can see he is hours late for work, he winces as he answers the call.

"Will, are you alright?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine Jack."

"Then, why are not at work? I assumed traffic at first but, it's been quite a while."

"Sorry, I must have slept through my alarm. I'll be there-"

"Do not bullshit me, Will." Will furrows his brows until he can softly hear the sound of dogs barking, _his_ dogs. Will rubs the bridge of his nose with the realization that Jack had driven to his house, possibly worried, when Will didn't arrive from work. "I know you're not home." Jack doesn't ask where Will is, but his silence does. Will glances over to Hannibal, who looks back at him with a smile that reads 'why lie?'. 

"I'm at Hannibal's, Jack." He can hear movement over the line, probably Jack walking to his car. 

"Dr. Lecter's? It's almost 9am, why are you at Hannibal's this early?" Halfway through the question Will can sense Jack realizing why. A couple times Hannibal arrived to the lab as a special consultant there where still red suck bruises on his neck, that Will strategically placed high enough that his suits couldn't cover. Of course Price and Zeller always said something about them, Beverly would occasionally shoot him an approving glance and Jack would ignore them. All the while Will would smugly smile into his coffee, and stand right beside Hannibal.

"I stopped by for dinner last night, like I usually do. Over the course of the night he began showing symptoms of an illness, so I stayed to take care of him. It wasn't severe enough to warrant the hospital and Hannibal's picky enough where he would never hire another doctor to take care of him." Hannibal kicks him softly under the covers and Will has to stifle a laugh.

"Oh," Jack starts. "So I can assume you are not arriving for work?" 

"Yeah, I figured I shouldn't go anywhere until he is better and I don't show symptoms as well."

"Smart, stay away from the lab until you feel better, both of you. I can't risk you getting anyone else sick."

"Understood, sir."

"Give yourself a couple days after he is better, then come into work. And next time something like this happens inform me ahead of time, at least a text. I hope he gets better soon, I am sure he is glad you are there . You're a good friend, Will." Will can tell Jack used the term 'friend' on purpose, knowing Jack now suspects they have a relationship beyond friends, if he didn't before. 

"I'll let him know you said so." Will hangs up and tosses the phone on the nightstand, he lays down and rubs his face with his hands. "Now Jack knows we are... whatever we are."

"I'm sure he knew long before this, or at least suspected. You do have a habit of bruising me, conventionally placed too."

"You have a habit of staring at me, a lot." He can hear Hannibal smile and move closer to him on the bed. "And having fun with me in the records room."

"That was one time," Hannibal corrects him as he places his head back on Will's chest. "Unless you'd like it to be a common reoccurrence." He looks up at Will with those striking eyes of his, both innocent and corrupting at the same time.

Will smiles as he can't help but remember that day. The way Hannibal was all too happy to help Will with digging through old case files, Will didn't understand why until he heard the door lock. Hannibal had managed to sneak up behind him entirely silent, Will assumes he uses the same technique on his victims. Soon one of Hannibal's hands had clamped down over Will's mouth, the other wasting no time in rubbing him hard through his pants. He still remembers Hannibal's hot breath on his neck, as he whispered obscene sexual desires and fantasies into Will's ear. His words alone could have made Will's knees weak. Hannibal had pulled away from him when Will's vision was getting blurry from overstimulation and turned him to face him.

He will never forget how composed Hannibal managed to look, even after everything he just did to Will. Will's body was yearning for release as Hannibal undid his belt and then sank to his knees before Will.

"I will assume that is a yes." Will blinks away the memory and focuses back on Hannibal. "You're very easy to read, Will."

"So are you," Will says after he swallows the saliva in his mouth. "You had started killing in designs unlike the Rippers after that day, just as an excuse to hover around the lab, hover around me." Hannibal smiles against his chest, not denying the accusation. "Now, would you like something to eat?"


End file.
